


Hell Funeral

by LigeiaMaloy



Series: Return of the Reaper [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Inappropriate Behavior, Shakarian - Freeform, Smut, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6813769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigeiaMaloy/pseuds/LigeiaMaloy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, the reapers have been destroyed two years ago. Lydia Shepard has survived. </p><p>Politics don't rest because it's the time of rebuilding, and so Shepard is invited to a funeral she didn't want to attend to - the deceased one wasn't close to her heart, and she hates prestigious events for show.<br/>Fortunately, Garrus is with her, unfortunately, he makes it even harder for her to focus on the solemn ceremony. </p><p>There certainly are more fun things to do for the heroic couple than being bored in a church, now Shepard only has to convince Garrus to join her for some inappropriate activities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to hell anyway because of the twincest fic, so I might as well start a career down there. And you'll all join me, mwahahaha!
> 
> Thank you, [Sisyphe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sisyphe/pseuds/Sisyphe), for encouraging me to write this. 
> 
> This is part two of my silly series where I use song titles as prompts for fics that have nothing to do with said prompt, oh well.

It was the year 2188 and the old country church was calling for its mourning visitors to come inside.

Lydia Shepard flinched, withstanding the urge to cover her ears. The high notes of the chiming bells were piercing through the artificial eardrums, ringing in her head. She separated herself from the stream of humans and aliens. In the shade of a tree, unobserved by the crowd, she opened her omni-tool and adjusted the settings of her hearing implants.

The screaming changed to the beautiful somber tune only bells several centuries old could create. An eerie sound that didn’t want to harmonize with the bright blue sky and the mild sun of spring. Or it was the weather that didn’t belong, with most of the world destroyed and turned to ashes. What an irony that one of the few spots on Earth untouched by the reapers was an old country graveyard.

Shepard watched the invited guests to this farce walking by. The councilors had arrived first, admirals and ambassadors of different species, council races or not, joined soon, and, of course, a selection of journalists. Together they formed a mass of names and ranks where one retired commander didn’t stand out, even if this ex-commander was the savior of the galaxy.

Once the losses had been counted everyone was working together, not only to rebuild, but also to sweep what had happened under the rug. The sooner the almost-destruction of the galaxy was old news, the sooner they could return to business as usual, political puppetry and intrigues included.

Today’s event was one step towards it - the funeral of the first human councilor was the staged show, and diplomacy the audience.

“There sure are funny trees on earth,” a welcome voice chuckled. A tall shadow fell over her, taking the shape of a turian once he shoved the veil of fine branches and delicate leaves aside.

“It’s a weeping willow.” She smiled at him, touching his hand when he shoved a strand of red hair out of her face. All her years in the military she had sheared it off. It had taken her a year to recover after her rescue, and after that, she couldn’t bear the idea to return to her old haircut. It belonged to a life she wouldn’t be able to return to.

“That’s so appropriate that I can’t say if it’s funny or sad.” Garrus lowered his head, snuggling his face against the shoulder-length waves. If she had known how much her hair would fascinate him she would have allowed it to grow out from the day they had first met.

It was good to see him here. To use Garrus’ words, she wasn’t sure if it was funny or sad that the first time she used her status as the hero of the cycle to receive permission to invite _some insignificant failed C-Sec officer_ to a funeral of this importance. That smug clerk had been lucky he didn’t receive a significant punch into his face.

“Looking good, Vakarian.” She stepped back to take a closer look at him. Turian fashion always flattered their bodies. The black pants were tight as ever. An equally black tunic was reaching half down his upper legs. Slits on the side allowed glimpses of his sharp hips, a belt showed off his slim waist. The fabric wasn’t thick, it was slightly moved by the wind, and Shepard wondered if he was cold. And if his outfit was skimpy by turian standards.

Symbols and patterns had been stitched on the clothes with gold-colored threads, giving him an elegant air. Shepard could ask him about it, or give into the impulse to reach under the tunic. Or both, but what should she do first?

“I know what you’re thinking.” He put his hand under her chin, lifting her gaze from his waist to his eyes. “I’m flattered and tempted, but I fear something like that is not on the program.”

“That’s a shame, it should be.” Shepard took his hand, grinning while she licked along one of his fingers, giving the talon a light kiss. Garrus chuckled, but he wasn’t able to keep meeting her eyes. He looked to the ground, tilting his head, his fingers twitching between hers.

“I, uh, we better go now.”

“Of course, Mr. Vakarian. Let’s go to the church, together.” She slid her arm around his, leading him back to the path with slow, solemn steps.

His smug laugh was cut off when he swallowed air the wrong way. Shepard slapped his back until he recovered from the coughing fit, not sure if this even worked with turians, but she owed him at least trying after teasing him.

She was aware she hadn’t made him feel uncomfortable. If anything, she knew he was becoming more comfortable with what she was suggesting than he liked while being in public, where he couldn’t act on it.

“I almost feel sorry for Udina,” Garrus changed the track of his mind into another direction. “Never liked that guy, but it’s a damn shame that his death’s put on display like that. Feel like even a bighead like him doesn’t deserve this.”

“Agreed. No idea if I’d gone to his funeral under different circumstances. Definitely don’t care about this perversion. At least there isn’t a body, that’d be grotesque. Could do without all this.” She let her right arm glide around his alluring waist, pulling his arm over her left shoulder. “I can think of dozens of better things to do now.”

They were the last to arrive at the church. They found two empty seats in the back and were glad about it. Garrus took the seat next to the wall, and naturally, she sat down next to him. She seized up the crowd.

Most of the guests were humans and asari, a notable number of turians was scattered among them, and here and there an elcor blocked the view for those behind them. She also spotted a few salarian and was surprised to see two hanar. She didn’t find any volus, but wasn’t sure if none of the invited ambassadors cared for a human funeral, or if she couldn’t see them from her seat.

The show proceeded as expected. Speech after speech began with Undina’s accomplishments as an individual and for the human race, and how tragic it was to lose him to the reapers’ indoctrination. With that out of the way, the invited speakers delivered their rhetorical battles of diplomacy and politics, always assuring how important it was to work to together, to honor the victims of the war from the respective race, and what should be done in the future.

Shepard lowered her head, hiding her yawn behind her hand.

“Boring, eh?” Garrus squeezed her other hand.

“You can say that again.” This was a waste of time. Only a few mass relays had been repaired. Home planets and colonies of all races were still in shambles, rebuilding was going slow wherever politics were getting involved, trying to tell those who knew better where to start and where to wait.

With many of the big decision makers here today, the rest of the galaxy could work in peace, which was the only advantage Shepard saw. Otherwise, this funeral was damage control on behalf of humanity. An act to assure that Udina’s acts that eventually lead to his death went down in history as a tragic accident, caused by the reapers. By paying their last respects to Udina, the remaining council members made an unofficial promise to not let Udina’s actions influence the future relationships to humanity.

To hell with this. This was the last time she took part in anything like this again! If they didn’t let her return to her ship, why should she agree to become a decoration of social-political events? Two weeks! It had been two weeks since she had seen Garrus, because of the preparation of this farce!

Shepard moved closer to him.

“With everyone here, is somebody guarding the Normandy?” Shepard whispered, hearing Garrus inhale sharply as he tried to silence a chuckle. She leaned in closer.

“I’m going to steal her.”

“Again?” His mandibles slid into a smirk. “And what are you planing to do with her?”

“First, I’m kidnapping a handsome turian. The handsomest I can find.” She put her hand on his leg, her fingertips tapping towards his inner thighs. He tensed under the touch, and she looked up at him. He was staring at over the head of a short asari sitting in front of him. Shepard would stop and pull her hand back if she saw any sign of discomfort, but his trembling mandibles were doing a bad job at hiding his grin.

She glanced to the human sitting to her right. He was wearing the stripes of an Admiral, but she didn’t remember if she had seen him before. More important was that he was fast asleep.

“Is that so,” Garrus said with a raspy voice.

“Yes. And this should give you an idea what I’m gonna do with him.” Shepard shoved her leg over Garrus’, and pulled Garrus’ legs apart. Her hand moved up, slipped under the flap of the tunic, feeling for his groin. The fabric of his pants was really deliciously thin. A bit of pressure was enough to feel the shape of his sheath through it.

“Spirits…” Garrus was shifting on his seat. He was trying to close his legs, but Shepard didn’t let him. She felt his low growl more than she heard it. The folds of his sheath were swelling beneath her fingertips, the barrier of his clothes adding a teasing friction for both of them.

“Damn, I want to jump you right here,” she breathed. What she had started on a whim was becoming and excited tingling between her own legs. She listened to Garrus fighting to control his breathing, always aware where they were right now. Arousing her turian lover in a church filled with people turned her on far more than she had expected.

Garrus would get his revenge for this later, and Shepard was looking forward to it.

“You’re pale, Shepard,” Garrus suddenly said, his voice surprisingly collected. Even Shepard almost bought the faked worry. “You know what the doctors said. You need more fresh air. I’ll help you going outside.”

“Thanks, Garrus.” It was difficult to act meek and grateful when she wanted to burst out laughing. This damn turian. Garrus helped her up and guided her outside the church. She pretended to sway, and her hand was covering her face as though she was being sick when she was really muffling her chuckles.

Revenge seemed to come sooner than she had thought, and she saw no reason to complain about it.

*

The door of the abandoned tool shed fell into its lock behind them.

“Irresponsible woman!” Garrus shoved her against the wall. His firm tongue flickered over her soft lips, pushing inside her mouth when she gasped for air.

Garrus kissing her didn’t leave her any choice but closing her eyes and allowing him to be in control. She enjoyed to feel him exploring, his rough mouth scratching over hers, but never leaving them sore, never again after their first kiss. She moaned when he pulled back. She grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, pulling him down again. Instead for her mouth, he went for her throat. She shivered when the rough tongue licked its way up to her ear.

“We’re at a damn funeral, Shepard.” His breath tingled in her ear.

“Would you believe me if I told you this is a human ritual?” She chuckled when he snorted, the warm air tickling her.

“Scandalous! The Council would have a fit if they knew about this!” He nibbled on the lobe of her ear. His talons had found their way under her shirt. He shoved it up, his rough fingers moving around her breasts.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Shepard purred. They both chortled, with Shepard’s voice turning into a moan when sharp talons gently scratched over her nipples. Her body tensed, expecting to be hurt, her mind knew better, the conflict creating an increasing wetness in her pants.

Shepard dismissed her worries that the scars covering half of her body would put him off. Garrus had assured her he didn’t mind at all, that every inch of her was worth touching. He was tracing lines of her scars, and gently massaged the smooth skin of her other, mostly unharmed breast.

She squirmed, taking one of Garrus’ hands by the wrist and pushing it down. He unzipped her pants and shoved two fingers into her underwear. His talons moved through her reddish curls. She threw her arms around his neck when rough skin found its way between her soft folds, her own wetness allowing his fingers to glide deeper.

He avoided touching her clit more than necessary. She muttered a curse, trusting that he knew she didn’t mean it. The slower his touches remained, the longer she could enjoy the delightful impatience.

What did she care that they had chosen an inappropriate moment for a roll in the hay - or rather, to shag in a shed between old shovels, rakes and watering cans. She had died once before she had been willing to realize that she wanted him. She had almost died a second time when she sacrificed everything she was and everything they had for the sake of the galaxy.

No nonsensical ceremony was worth forsaking a moment like this. Alone with the man she loved, breathing in his scent among dust and earth. His low growls were shaking her more than the bells of the small cathedral, and she’d trade all honors and prestige for one of his tender touches anytime.

Never again she’d allow anyone or anything to come between them, not after she had almost lost him twice, and had to fear for almost a year if she’d ever be able to feel, hear or taste him again.

Shepard loosened her grip and pushed herself away from his chest. She slid down to her knees, Garrus catching her hair between her fingers. She could smell herself when his other hand touched her cheek. Giving his fingers a kiss, she stuffed the frontal part of his tunic up and behind the belt. Garrus was holding his breath when she opened and pulled down his pants, freeing his hard cock from its prison of fabric.

She grinned as she stroked over it. There wasn’t much more to do for her to tease it to its full length. Her hand wrapped around the shaft, always looking oddly small in comparison. She licked over the thick base. Garrus let go of her hair and fell forwards, his flat hands slamming against the wall behind her.

If there was something she’d ask the universe for, it would be that he never got used to her human tongue and mouth. She licked along the sides of his sheath, massaging the swollen skin with the tip of her tongue. Her hand was stroking him, her thumb pressing against the slim, slightly bent head of his cock.

She felt how he was leaking, and when her mouth moved up and swallowed his length, he was shaking in his knees. His hips were twitching, as he had to restrain himself from pushing deep into her mouth, well aware that she couldn’t handle his full size.

Yet. His growls were encouraging her to try a little more, to swallow a little deeper each time they were together, and they had decades ahead of them to practice.

“Lydia…”

She looked up at him, into his panting face with the slightly open mouth. She loved the sight of his dangerous teeth combined with his loving yet hungry eyes. Slowly, her tongue licked over her moist lips, and with a growl, Garrus took her by her shoulders and pulled her to her feet.

She quickly climbed out of her pants before he ripped them from her. He grabbed her ass and lifted her up, pressing her back against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist for support, resting on his sharp hips.

“Wait a second.” She broke free from a deep kiss when she felt his cock pressing against her entrance.

“You okay?”

“Absolutely. Give me a second to turn these off.” She shouldn’t consider his worry for her arousing, but the warmth spread from her heart right to her groin. He smiled at her, stroking through her hair while she switched on her omni-tool. Within seconds, she deactivated her hearing implants.

Once she switched off the omni-tool, Garrus pushed into her.

She felt her own gasp. Raising her gaze, she met Garrus eyes, the blue brighter than ever. She saw him breathing, she felt him stretching her, slowly filling her. Her body registering every inch, every vein moving inside her.

Garrus’ hand held her tightly, her skin prickled where his talons hardly scratched her. He began to kiss her throat, his rough mouth and warm tongue causing a tingling sensation that almost rivaled the wonderful growing pressure of his cock inside of her.

The worlds around her were drowning in noise, and she was soaring in silence.

And then, Garrus began to speak.

He spoke as his hips were thrusting deeper. She didn’t hear him, she only felt the wonder of his vibrating voice that rippled through her where he kissed her.

It didn’t matter what he said. She understood the lust he was feeling as he became lost in his rhythm and in her. She savored the tenderness of his kisses and careful bites, the heat of his breath against her moist skin spoke volumes. He desired her, whether they made slow love like in the hospital, the first time after the war, or whether he shoved her up a wall and fucked her, like now.

He found her lips, filling her mouth with his tongue, maybe for the kiss, maybe to silence the moans she had no control over. Her hands were running over his face, short fingernails scratched over his mandibles, the base of his fringe, finally digging into the scales covering the back of his head.

Refusing to open her eyes, there was only feeling. She was hot, sweating, not damp between her legs but wet, allowing Garrus to bury most of his length in her. The wide base stretched her to a point between pain and pleasure. She shifted her hips as far as Garrus’ grip let her, hoping he could give her more. Her legs closed behind his back, pulling him closer.

She squirmed when he stopped moving. She was close, but needed a little more, and that he was swelling even further inside of her made it worse. That meant it would soon be over, and although she hated that, she loved it all the more when he was this big and hard, filling her so mercilessly that she couldn’t move. She was helpless in his arms, her voice couldn’t be more than a whimper.

Garrus had stopped kissing her. His hips were twitching, his muscles contracting against her leg.

He was panting, his face was leaning against hers, and she felt him growling in the back of his throat. One of his hands let go of her buttocks and slid between them.

The moment he slowly moved back and pushed into her again his fingers brushed her clit. She threw her head back, almost hearing her own howl when the tension exploded at the little touch. She arched against the wall, pulling Garrus’ head as close as possible. Her hips wanted to buck, but Garrus kept control about the pace of his final thrusts.

He continued to pull out and push back inside, refusing to let it end for her abruptly.

Shepard was becoming dizzy, the noise of the silence overwhelming her as nothing existed but him. Somewhere, he was whispering into her ear, as he always did, and she didn’t just feel the vibration of his voice, but also the meaning of his words.

“Love you, too,” she answered, not caring if she was shouting or sobbing while she fell around his neck, his strong arms holding her close and safely.

*

They had found another weeping willow. It was tall, its delicate branches swaying in the wind. Underneath, Shepard and Garrus had sat down on a stone bench.

She had her hearing back, but they didn’t talk. There was the rustling of a mild breeze shaking the leaves of the trees. Two small birds where swooshing through the air, chasing each other and cursing with indignant, high-pitched chirps.

There was Garrus, breathing, his arm around her shoulder. Her head rested on his chest, and she listened to the faint beating of his heart through his thick skin and carapace.

Death was strange, how it meant noise and horror in so many places, and peace and calm in a graveyard like this.

“Do you want to go back?”

Shepard sighed when Garrus broke the silence. She loved his voice, but for the moment, being in his arms, both of them alive and breathing, had been enough to make her happy.

“Into the church or the shed? Want another round?” Shepard stretched her legs, lifting her face towards the few warm rays of sunshine that fell past the tree’s branches.

“I meant the church. Would like the shed, though.” Garrus’ talons were caressing her neck, playing with the strands of her hair that entangled with his fingers. “But I get the impression what we really want right now is being lazy. Spirits know we deserve it after stopping the galaxy from going to hell.”

That sounded good. Being lazy. Doing nothing when they should. They sneaked away from a responsibility to have some fun and to relax - to be lazy - without fearing somebody would get killed because of their absence. Garrus was right, they deserved a few quiet moments… after the less quiet, more passionate moments. The council would lose it if they knew, and Shepard considered rubbing it into their faces at the soonest opportunity once this day was over.

“You’re aware we might just go to hell for using a funeral to take a break?” Putting her feet on the bench, she rested her head on Garrus’ lap, looking up at him while his fingers continued to run through her hair.

“Said it before, and I say it again. If anything you do leads straight into hell I’m right behind you.”

“Glad to hear it.” She sat up just far enough to meet him for a kiss. “You can start being right behind me once we’re back at the hotel,” she said, caressing his face while she laid down again.

Whatever she had gone through after her rescue, the pain, fears, the surgeries, shattered hopes, rekindled hopes - it all had been worth it as she could hear and see Garrus laugh.

“You’re an impossible woman. And I love you for that.”

 


End file.
